


Indecent Proposal

by ruffruffren



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Come Swallowing, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, M/M, Rimming, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 15:18:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruffruffren/pseuds/ruffruffren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pissed off and alone, Aoba is out on the streets of Midorijima in the pouring rain, and he’s looking to do something reckless. As if on cue, a sleek vehicle pulls up alongside him.</p><p>The two occupants invite him along, and before he knows it Aoba is sitting in the cozy back seat of their car. </p><p>When they begin to offer him money for answering simple, harmless questions, Aoba doesn’t hesitate. Little does he know just how far he’ll be made to go for the ultimate prize…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sleek, black and narrow. The windows were tinted, tiny droplets of rain clinging to the glass, reflecting his expression with blurry edges as he leaned forward. It could be a sports car, Aoba mused, not knowing or caring enough about vehicles to make a distinction between them.

The window nearest him, the passenger side, whirred as it swiftly lowered. Bending at the waist he peered inside, masking his curiosity behind a veil of neutrality. Immediately his eyes brushed over the neat suits of the two men inside, their matching ties and uncannily similar hairstyles making them look something akin to twins.

'Where are you headed?' One of the men asked, his spiked blonde hair seemingly a little too funky for his neat clothing. But then again, who was he to judge, slouched on the curbside and drenched in rain wearing his favourite hoodie – the one with the orange gradient sleeves and black body, teamed with a baggy pair of dark grey jeans and scuffed, worn out trainers. Besides, this encounter was exactly what he had been waiting out in the pouring rain for.

'Anywhere you are.' Aoba's response was as smooth and practised as the cold and unmoving look on his face. 'Anywhere but  _here_.’

The two men exchanged a look between them and Aoba realised they were damn near identical. Was this some kind of joke? He was about to ask when the passenger interrupted, a confident smirk tugging on the corner of his thin lips.

'Come with us, then.'

'How much?' Aoba asked, feeling in his pocket for the odd crumpled note.

'For what?'

'The ride.'

'Oh. I'm sure we can discuss payment along the way.'

The tinted glass of the window slid back into place, the conversation at an end. He moved to the back end of the car and opened the back seat door, shuffled his wet and bedraggled body into the peaceful warmth, sheltered at last from the pelting rain. The luxurious scent of leather mixed with cologne and fresh rain filled his senses, and he almost felt guilty for spoiling the plush seating with his wet clothes. Almost.

No sooner was his belt in place did the car move off, rejoining the flow of traffic.

'So, what is your name?' The passenger asked.

'Does it matter?'

'Not really.'

'What are your names? Tweedle dee and Tweedle dum?'

'Does it matter?'

'…Not really.' Aoba pouted, looking out the car window, deflated. What a shit day it was. 'Aoba.'

'Pardon?' The driver said. His voice was lighter and more courteous than his companion's.

'I'm Aoba.'

'It is a pleasure to meet you, Aoba-san. My name is Virus, and this is Trip.'

'Aoba-san… Would you like an opportunity?' Virus asked, his quiet voice breaking the rhythmic patter of rain on glass. Occasionally the windscreen wiper swept across the flat surface, squeaking faintly as it returned back to its original place, but otherwise the car had fallen into a relaxed silence. Until now.

Aoba looked up from his coil, his fingers poised over the hologram keyboard, halfway through typing out a message. ‘What kind of opportunity?’

'There is no need to be suspicious, Aoba-san. I assure you our intentions are not bad.'

'What do you want me to do?'

The car slowed down, hitting some traffic. The engine hummed quietly, as if to eavesdrop better on their chat.

'Nothing too taxing I assure you.'

'Yeah,' The one named Trip twisted in his seat, a single note perched between his long, thick fingers, 'It's easy money if you agree.'

Money. The word pricked at Aoba’s ears and again he dropped the almost finished message, eyeing up the note with furrowed brows. That was tempting, alright. Money he could use.

'I'm listening.' Slinking back against the plush seating, the satisfying creak of leather as satisfying to his ears as it felt underneath his ass, Aoba gave them his full attention.

Trip flashed a smile, pleased with the answer. ‘We’ll start simple. I can ask you a question, and when you answer the money can be yours.’

'That's a little too easy, isn't it?'

'Don't worry. It will get harder. '

'Alright. But be warned; if you think the pair of you are going to beat me up after and take it all back, I will  _destroy_  you first.’

'Is that so? Then we consider ourselves warned.' Virus, focus on the road and slow traffic, had a tone that was indecipherable, toeing the line somewhere between sincerity and sarcasm. He was unsettling to the say the least.

So, for now… why don’t you tell me your favourite colour?’ Trip asked, undeterred.

'Blue.'

The money was his. Trip handed it over, and Aoba, somewhat hesitantly, snatched it from between his fingers, as if to act any slower would see the chance at it cruelly taken away. In an instant Aoba pocketed it, like a squirrel hoarding nuts.

'That wasn't too hard now was it, Aoba-san?'

'Ready for another?' Trip produced another note, and Aoba's fingers twitched greedily. 'Which do you prefer: nuts or whipped cream?'

'Uhm… whipped cream, I suppose.'

Kaching.

'That's interesting. Let's get a little more personal. Top or bottom?'

'W-What!?' Aoba's composed facade cracked, his voice raising and cheeks flushing at the lewd question. He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, and tried to hide his squirming. 'That's…'

One finely trimmed brow raised, reflected in the rearview mirror. ‘What is it, Aoba-san? I am sure my companion was merely referencing bunk beds. Are you blushing?’

'N-No.'

'Is that so?'

'I am not blushing! I prefer the bottom bunk.' Aoba said, grabbing the money and retreating once more.

'Bottom, eh? You know what they say. It's safer if you break the bottom rather than the top. Don't you agree, Virus?'

'Indeed.'

Aoba shuffled uncomfortably, his wet clothes damp and now sticking to his clammy skin. Though that was not entirely to blame for his discomfort, and the sensation that he was giving away much more than innocent facts would not leave him. Not until another slither of cash appeared before his eyes.

'Hands on or oral?'

'E-Eh?'

'Teaching methods.'

'…Hands on. I don't think being talked at all day is very productive.'

'How insightful of you.' Virus commented, changing the gears as he took the three of them around a bend. The car moved smoothly, speeding up now the traffic had begun to clear around them.

'And does Aoba-san like to play by himself or others more?'

'I don't have many friends so I play mostly by myself.'

'We can change that.'

'Huh?' Aoba didn't quite catch the mumbled comment that passed from Trip's words, yet he didn't care particularly, not when his pockets were now beginning to fill with a healthy amount of money. What he intended to use it for was embarrassing to admit.

He wanted to waste it down at the arcade, pile it into a machine and forget about his shitty life for awhile. But he wouldn’t do that. No, he had other plans.

'Oh, nothing for you to be concerned about right now, Aoba-san.'

'Yeah. Say, Aoba… would you like to come to our place? You can earn a lot more money if you do.'

There was a silence, as loud as thunder, rolling in Aoba’s ears in place of the alarm bells that would normally begin to ring at this time. The absence of warning shots firing failed to register in his blank mind, and he found himself nodding before the question had really sunk in.

'Sure. I've got nowhere else to go.'


	2. Chapter 2

By the time they arrived the rain had ceased. The world around Aoba seemed quieter, more peaceful – but his foul mood that had driven him out the house still remained. Though whatever had angered him in the first place was but a distant, fleeting memory now, he still felt the unsatisfied need within him to rebel. And that was perhaps the reason why he agreed to join these strangers in the comfort of their home.

'Fucking hell!' Aoba cussed loudly, easing himself out of the car as Trip kindly held the door for him. They were much taller than him, with Trip being the tallest of the three. At Best Aoba was shoulder height with Virus, a fact that irked him more than he would admit. More than that now though was his sheer astonishment at the sprawling estate laid out before him.

'Is this… still Midorijima?' he asked dumbly, the hood of his jacket sliding from his head as he tilted back to take it all in.

'Indeed, it is.' Virus said, smiling. When Aoba caught the gesture, it sent a chill down his spine. Though the corners of Virus's lips were upturned, though the expression was clearly a smile, it was strangely… empty, somehow. It did not reach the slender eyes, which now Aoba was close enough, he could see they held little colour in them. They were as a frozen lake, suspended in time and giving no hints to the emotion or thoughts felt.

'Welcome to our humble abode, Aoba.' Trip said, slinging his arm around Aoba's shoulders as they walked along the gravel pathway, the stones a little slippery and shining underfoot, fresh from the rainfall.

The building was old in design, a replica of the grand manors of the West. That such a sprawling space still existed on the island… Aoba wasn’t entirely sure it was real. He half suspected to find himself on a scene of a movie set, the house just a cardboard cut out. It certainly put his dinky little home to shame.

'You guys are pretty loaded,' Aoba marvelled, voice full of wonder he didn't bother to try to hide, 'You must be yakuza or something.'

'Or something. Please, come inside, Aoba-san.'

'Come in, come in.'

'Alright.'

Through the large painted black door, Aoba stepped into a spacious lobby. A grand set of stairs loomed directly ahead of him, undoubtedly leading to a myriad of lushly furnished rooms. Well, Aoba speculated that much anyway. For now he stood awkwardly and out of place on the chequered floor, his bedraggled clothes and hair dripping occasionally with the last of the rain, though his companions seemed not to mind.

'Well, I'm here.' He said, slapping his hands against his thighs. 'What now?'

'You are quite eager, aren't you?' Virus asked, closing the door.

'I'm just looking for something fun to do.' Aoba cocked a smile, tilting his head to the side as he turned to face them both.

'In that case we shall be sure to provide you with the entertainment you seek, Aoba-san.'

'We'll make it fun for you.'

'Good.'

'Carrying on from before then… We will double the payment if you show us some things.'

'Show you? What do you want to see?'

'Now that we're in a private place, we would like to have some fun with you, Aoba-san,' Virus continued, a serene expression still haunting his face, 'As promised, we will double the amount.'

'Yeah? So tell me what it is you want.'

The two exchanged a glance before Trip presented the money. It was a fair sum, more than enough to buy food for a week, Aoba quickly surmised. ‘I’ll pay you this if you lift your shirt up.’

'You just want to see my nipples? You do know I'm a guy, right?' Aoba couldn't hide his flushed expression at the sudden question. He felt the heat in his cheeks already burning his flesh.

'Of course. We do not doubt your masculinity, Aoba-san.'

He glanced to the money again, held so temptingly out to him. It was a little weird, he thought. But there was no harm in lifting his shirt, really. Even if they were a couple of perverts – he did want something interesting to do. And that money.

Grabbing the notes he feverishly stuffed them into his pocket, shyly pulled the zipper on his hoodie down and toyed with the grey hem of his shirt underneath. It was no big deal. They were all men here, after all.

'Okay…' He whispered, and lifted the fabric up. Two pairs of eyes keenly lowered, drinking in the subtly defined abs of his body, the ripple as a shuddering breath brought on from the draughty room flushed against him. The way they admired his body for a few moments, silent and contemplative, made him feel like a piece of art in the museum.

He swallowed nervously. ‘A-Are you guys done now?’

'Hm. Not quite. Perhaps if we offered you some more, you would allow my companion here to touch you?'

'Touch!?' Aoba heard his voice echo back to him, incredulous and high pitched. He felt a little guilty as it shouted back at him. 'I don't know…'

'Please do not be shy, Aoba-san. My companion has warm hands.'

Warm or not, Aoba mused, he wasn’t entirely comfortable at being touched. Though neither of the pair were unattractive, he simply had not considered things going in that direction. He had to think of a way out…

'Triple the payment.' He said, confident. There was no way on Earth they would agree to -

'Very well. We will triple the amount. Here it is.' Virus said, and for the first time he was the one to produce the payment. And with it went Aoba's fleeting hope of avoiding the situation he was quickly sinking into.

They couldn’t be that sensitive. He’d tried tweaking them enough times himself to know they wouldn’t provide him with any undue stimulation, and so he stood there, his shirt tucked around his neck, held in place by his lightly quivering arms as Trip moved behind him.

'It's easier like this.' Trip's voice was hot and sultry against Aoba's ear, and a moment later his smooth hands found their way onto Aoba's body.

A jolt ran down his spine as the broad hands spread over his stomach, ticklish initially, his flesh recoiled under the touch before slowly creeping back to it. His hands were warm, as promised, and pleasant in the coldness of the room.

'Your skin is very soft, Aoba.'

'Is it? That kind of tickles, though.' Aoba chuckled as Trip's feather light caress moved up his torso, the tips of his long fingers brushing over the grooves of his meagrely defined body. It was ticklish all until the moment those finger tips found the unresponsive nubs of Aoba's chest. Where he had been unable to illicit any kind of reaction from them at all, Trip's gentle and persistent rubbing was quickly working away at Aoba's nervous system.

'A-Ah…' He sighed, finding himself lean back against the broad frame behind him. 'D-Don't do that…so much…'

'Oh?' Virus said, slithering closer. 'What's the matter, Aoba-san?'

Aoba panted, fighting to find his voice. ‘Feels kind of…hah… weird…’ His cheeks blazed red hot as Trip worked his nipples, pulling on them gently and twisting them this way and that, never enough to hurt – just enough to cause a myriad of electric pulses throughout his body.

Being stimulated in this way made him feel different. He felt as if the rug from under his feet pulled clean away, his body suspended permanently in the air, forever captured in a free fall.

Not knowing when, or if, he would land at all…

'You mean it feels  _good_?’ Trip said, voice unbearably close, it was as if the words were a thought spoken from directly inside his mind.

'Weird! I said weird!' Aoba protested, finding his feet as he felt himself sliding down a slippery slope into… something. He needed to stop this, he decided. 'I think that's e-enough for now…'

'But I don't wish to stop here, Aoba-san. It's not fair if my companion only gets to play with you a little, is it?'

'Well…'

'We have been very generous with you after all.'

'…What do you want…?'

Aoba was breathless, the strange sensation spiralling down his spine from his chest making him shiver; he was overtly aware of the other two, how close they were to him, his mind registering how hot Trip’s breath was upon the shell of his ear and how it made him tingle. It was as though he was hyper conscious, feeling everything for the first time. And in a way, he was feeling for the first time.

No one had touched him like this before.

The two men exchanged a glance over Aoba’s shoulders, an indecipherable message passing between them.

'Since it seems your top half is occupied why don't you show me your lower half?'

'Show you? You just want me to lower my pants a bit?'

'Yes, that seems appropriate. I promise we wont do anything beyond look.'

Aoba’s shirt, neatly tucked under his arms, stayed in place as he let the hem go and lowered his hands to the button on his pants. He didn’t bother with a belt with these pants. He liked the way they slung around his bony hips, the band of his underpants teasingly in view. He unpopped the button, wondering why his mind was so peacefully quiet. Why he felt the rage inside him begin to ebb, the sharp tongue of his anger eroded until blunt. He couldn’t explain any of it, but then he didn’t question why he obeyed now. He couldn’t explain why, when he felt his pants cling around his thighs and an appreciative pair of eyes linger at his crotch, he felt so at ease.

'Oh, Aoba-san… you are enjoying yourself this much already?'

'Wh-what?' Aoba bucked, attempted to glance down, but a sharp tug on his nipples ripped a cry out of his throat and stopped him short. 'Ah!'

'It appears Aoba-san is enjoying having his nipples played with. How lewd.'

'N-No…wait…!'

'Do not be ashamed of it.' Virus extended a single finger and gently circled it around a particular area on Aoba's pants. Immediately Aoba could feel the dampness of his own arousal pressing back against him. His mouth hung open, brows knotted together as he felt the mortification strike him far more chillingly than the cold rain from earlier.

'That's… not…!'

'There is no use trying to hide it now.' Trip purred, and following closely behind his leaked words was his tongue. It dragged up the shell of Aoba's ear, wet and hot. 'We'll pay you good money for this.'

'I don't…want…'

'Is that so? Then you will do it for free, wont you? How nice of you. We'll make sure you feel good in return, Aoba-san.' Virus took his fingers away and Aoba almost let loose the whine in the back of his throat, longing for the subtle tracing of his touch once more.

His eyes hazy, body leaning heavily onto Trip, his nipples still deliciously tortured, he barely registered that Virus was unbuttoning the pants of his suit. The sound of his zipper lowering barely audible over his own ragged breathing, the hand that lodged itself in his azure tresses came as a surprise. More than that though his mind reeled as he found himself bent over, face level with Virus’ exposed, hard member.

He could smell the scent of sex oozing from the trembling tip, watched in horrified fascination as a single bead of translucent fluid glided down the silky head. It looked akin to mildew on the petal of a flower.

'What are you doing?' Aoba looked up, wide eyed. 'You said you wouldnt-'

'Wouldn't touch you. That is correct. But I didn't say we wouldn't expect you to touch us.'

'…I've never done it before.' Aoba's voice felt pathetic even in his own ears. For all his bravado his experiences in life only went as far as fighting. Brawls in the street were second nature to him.

His sexual appetite was something unconsidered, undiscovered even. He masturbated, yes. But only very rarely, only when there was no other outlet for his energy.

And certainly never has he found himself bent half naked between two men, an erect cock tantalising inches from his face, so fresh he could smell it, so close he could see the veins that swelled and pumped just beneath the surface.

Would it even fit, he wondered, half opening his mouth, and even if it did, how would it taste?

There was only one way to find out.


	3. Chapter 3

'Lick it first,' Virus prompted, offering himself a little more with a slow drag of his hips, 'Taste it.'

Aoba’s tongue was out of his mouth before he really registered it was gone. The fluid he had seen was hunted down, lapped up like a drop of milk onto his tongue, and the bitterness struck him. It wasn’t a foul taste, yet it was a far cry from the pleasant sweetness of sugary candy.

He withdrew his tongue, screwing up his face as the taste settled over him.

'That's not a very nice face.' Virus admonished.

'It tastes funny.'

'You will get used to it. Open your mouth for me again. '

'Has he never done this?' Trip, who had seemingly vanished from events, returned with his two palms deviously caressing the curve of Aoba's ass as it jutted temptingly out to him. He cupped and squeezed through the fabric, and Aoba resisted the urge to moan.

This shouldn’t feel good at all, he was sure.

'It seems he hasn't.'

'That's kind of cute.'

'We will have to teach him, then. Now, Aoba-san, I told you to open your mouth. '

Doing as he was told was easy. He parted his lips, moistening them instinctively with his tongue first. He closed his eyes as he felt Virus draw near, the head of his cock guided between the slits of his lips. It rested there, and he felt the gentle heaviness of flesh toying at the entrance to his mouth.

'Please make sure you shield your teeth. Unlike some, I prefer pleasure.'

With that Virus coaxed the first portion of his length into Aoba’s awaiting mouth, filling the small space instantly.

As he expected it felt too big, and cracking open an eye Aoba realised with daunting reality he had barely half covered in the slippery heat of his mouth. Impossible to take it all, he thought, and began to work on the head with his tongue as the instructions came down from above.

'Swirl over the tip nice and slowly, but firmly. Press down with your lips - that's it. Very good, Aoba-san.'

'It sounds like you're making him feel good.' Trip kneaded the soft flesh of Aoba's ass through the dark blue fabric of his underpants, but the cotton did little to dim the effect his touch was having on Aoba. He could feel it strongly, his entire frame lighting up with new sensations.

'Phwa…w-wait a sec-!' Aoba pulled his lips from Virus' cock, a bridge of silvery saliva still connecting them. It glistened before breaking, dripping onto the floor as he twisted his torso, feeling cool air gush against his ass, his underpants joining his pants in a bunched heap around the middle of his slender thighs. His clothes acted like a shackle, making the possibility of fleeing improbable.

'What's the matter, Aoba?' Trip asked, a dirty smile staining his face.

'What are you doing? You promis-mrff!'

Virus tugged on Aoba’s head, cruelly yanking his mouth back onto its charge. ‘I did not say you could stop, Aoba-san. Please continue.’ His tone was cold, and Aoba couldn’t tell if it had a hint of annoyance thinly veiled within it. He struggled as his mouth filled back up with the salty wetness of Virus’ cock, tasting his own saliva as his head was forced up and down the length, muffled protests leaking uselessly around the thickness.

Aoba gripped his knees for support, clenching his eyes shut as he felt the tip of his gag reflex begin to trigger, the surging tide of panic in the pit of his belly rising up against him.  _I’m gonna fucking choke,_ he thought, obediently holding his mouth open as Virus increased the force of his thrusts.

'Your hole is twitching so much,' Trip commented, and Aoba squirmed as his asscheeks were pulled open, exposing him yet further still. It was humiliating, and the shame weighed heavily around his neck, jarring his growing arousal to a standstill. The very fact he was hard at all shamed him enough, but far worse was knowing a near stranger was looking right at him – right there, where no one else was meant to see.

_I only met these guys an hour ago, and now this? I don’t like this anymore… it’s too much…It wasn’t meant to go this far!_

A finger, already moistened, played over his intimate skin. It made the air against his heat even colder, a fierce shudder racking his body as the fingertip probed at him, threatening to break the seal of his virginity at any moment.

'W-Wai-!' Aoba pulled Virus' dick from his mouth again only to be forced back down onto it. He looked up pleadingly, tears stinging the corners of his eyes, muffled cries spilling uselessly onto the floor where his saliva was already pooling. His plea was met with an icy wall of indifference. Though Virus' thin lips curled upwards, his eyes reflected no mirth. Only a much darker emotion waited for him in the depths.

He found no mercy.

'Aoba…' Trip cooed. 'I bet you taste good.'

'Hrf!'

Rolling his hips was useless. Trip tightened his grip on either side, holding him firmly open for his probing tongue to flick against his entrance. It circled the area a few times, darting back into the depths of his mouth to refresh the supply of saliva and then reapplying it. It felt sickeningly good, Aoba thought, suppressing a moan as he felt the cold moisture collide against the heat of his body. He shivered, hard, felt a powerful twitch between his legs. His waning arousal was back; he felt his cock swelling between his legs, the familiar ache of neglected pleasure building there.

'How is it?' Virus asked.

'Delicious.'

'Ahh… please…' Aoba panted, pulling back once more. He felt his lips already bruised from their labours.

'Hm, ir's not fair really.' Trip stood up, and Aoba felt the brush of his suit pants against his naked ass, rubbing between the cheeks of his ass his concealed erection. It made Aoba blush harder, to feel such raw need pressing against him – to know, deep down, he was responsible for making both these men aroused. 'Virus is having fun. I want some of my own. Aoba,' the syllables of his name became separated, drawn out into playful notes, 'May I play with you too?'

'I… I've not…'

'What if I just use my fingers?'

'…Just a finger… You promise? No more?'

'I promise.'

'A-Alright.'

When Virus nudged his dripping cock back against Aoba’s lips, he sunk his mouth back over it, content with the assurance of their promise he would not be violated further. Not that he could particularly call it a violation, the agreement uttered from his very lips. It was still so new to him, though, and as he sucked with inexperienced vigour, he began to wonder what it would feel like when Trip took that from him. After all, he had not so much as kissed a girl to date… now the very lips he had somewhat been saving were wrapped around a stranger’s cock…

Worse still was allowing his ass to be licked…

Just thinking about it in the lust hazed fog of his mind made him cringe.

And then in a flash his traffic jam of thoughts crashed abruptly.

The pressure of being entered was immense. His muscles burned with exertion, forced apart by the sheer size of the intrusion. If it was not for Virus’ unyielding grip on his head he would have yelled out. Instead all he could do was stare upwards through watery eyes, pray that either one would take pity on him. Was a finger really

so impossibly large?

'Ahh… it's so tight inside.' Trip spoke from between gritted teeth. His voice was strained. 'It's his first time, I guess.'

The surging tide of panic overwhelmed Aoba, who no longer able to suppress it, lurched forward in a failed attempt to ease the burning pressure in his backside, however it proved a fatal mistake. Virus thrust his hips forward at that exact unfortunate moment – Aoba was not entirely able to comprehend if it had been a planned, deliberate action or not – and he found himself gagging as Virus’ cock delved down the back of his throat.

'That wasn't very nice.' Virus let go of Aoba's hair, gave him the chance to cough and splutter. 'Did my companion do something bad?'

'T-Take it out! Take it out!' Aoba begged, mustering all he could into his plea. 'Please! Pull it out!'

'Are you not enjoying it, Aoba-san?'

'It hurts!'

'The pain will go away soon enough, Aoba-san. Please put up with it a little longer.'

'Is it your first time, Aoba?'

'Yes! Now pull it out! It hurts!'

'Ahh… that explains it.' Trip eased back, and with it a new rush of sensations struck Aoba.

'Too fast! Stop! Stop!'

'Such a noisy boy.' Trip sighed, and with it he used his broad palm and pushed Aoba's head back down, onto Virus' waiting member.

'Mrff!'

'That's better. Keep your mouth occupied for awhile, I'll make you feel good soon. I promise.'

Though he had perhaps been foolish enough to land himself in this situation he was not dumb enough to believe the promise had been upheld. He knew now that was not a finger entering him, and he did not need the brush of Trip’s pants against his naked ass to confirm it, either. He had been tricked and it had cost him the last remaining rags of his innocence, now laying in tatters around him.

'Isn't that much better?' Virus asked, his grip turning gentle, fingers stroking through the silk ocean of Aoba's hair. 'Don't look at me with those eyes, Aoba-san. I don't think I will contain myelf.'

'Is he crying yet?'

'I believe so. You are so mean to him, please consider being more careful.'

'He's so tight on me. His body is clamping down really tightly – I don't think he minds too much.'

'I would not be so sure. He's looking at me with such panicked eyes right now.'

'I wish I could see them, too.'

Talk. Endless talk. Would they ever stop?

Their words rained down on him, clouding his mind, staining his worn down pride with filth. He didn’t mean to tighten up; it was beyond his control. How could he be responsible for that? How could he be responsible for the drool pouring out the corner of his mouth, for the devious way he felt his body react? No, it could not be so.

Aoba denied it hard. Denied the burning ache in his loins and the stiffness of his own cock now that Trip was roughly fucking him, his hips slamming forward with a fierce ferocity that Aoba lurched forward, choking on Virus’ awaiting hardness every time, that quiet smirk upon his face blurring with his tears. Like rain on glass the fine edges of his face became less defined, merging together until Aoba could no longer focus on anything but the rhythmic thrusts in and out of his body.

He was speared like a pig on a spit-roast, twirling over the flames of temptation, the heated tongues licking away at him, searing and forever branding him.

'It's your first time, Aoba. But look at you, taking us both together.'

'He is doing very well. Aoba-san, please use your tongue more.'

'Is it normal these days to take two guys at once on your first time?'

'Try not to be too cruel to him.'

Was it normal?

No, it wasn’t normal.

_I’m a… slut. I’m a complete slut. Nothing but a filthy whore. I took money for this. I’m worse than a slut. I’m doing it for money. I’m a filthy, horny slut._

He removed a hand from Virus’ waist, where he had been clinging desperately as if to stop himself falling any further, and with great shame and a mixture of agonised relief he gripped his own swollen cock. He dragged his palm over the drenched tip and smoothed it down his quivering shaft until he was completely moistened, and then he pumped his flesh in perfect rhythm set for him by the other two.

He cut the strings himself, broke free from the restraint holding him down. He swirled his tongue over Virus’ tip and moaned low in his throat as the pressure building in his abdomen grew, coaxed by his hand and the ever driving of Trip’s hips.

'He's feeling it now,' Trip panted, holding onto Aoba more firmly as he quickened, 'Aren't you, Aoba?'

'Nhf!'

'Are you going to come soon?'

'Hng…!'

'Say that again?'

'Nh…hng…!'

'Arw, I think he wants to come.'

Aoba’s frantic movements were brought to a sudden and painful standstill, a hand much larger than his own encasing him, squeezing him shut so the budding orgasm was frozen like a flower in a sudden cold snap.

'Shame. If you don't ask for it how can we let you?'

'…Mrrf…!' He tried to pull his head free from Virus' cock. He tried. But the hands in his hair turned viscous, holding him down.

'What was that, Aoba-san? Are you trying to say something?'

A series of muffled moans that became increasingly more desperate.

'You shouldn't talk with your mouthful.'

Another muffled response. It was hurting now. He needed to release…

It was then that the prison he found himself in vanished, and with a loud gasp he broke free, the words flying from between swollen lips.

'Let me come! Please…! I'm begging you… I need it…! Ahh…'

'Oh? Then I guess we have no choice.'

'Aoba-san, I'm going to come as well. Please make sure you drink it all.'

Virus came first. His fluid filled Aoba’s mouth, hot, salty and thick. He swallowed it down quickly as it came, wincing slightly at the taste and texture of it. It was not as he expected, but he had come to expect that nothing would be as he thought again.

When Virus was finished and his cock withdrawn, Aoba’s mouth was finally free to release the torrent of strangled moans of pleasure that had been pushed down until now. Virus cupped his head gently still, wiping with his thumb the warm tears.

'Ahh… nnn…It feels… so good…ahh….!'

'Come for me, Aoba.'

'Going… to…Can't… hold it…!' Aoba stroked his straining member restlessly now that Trip had relinquished his control over it. And just as he said it he felt the wave of climax crash down over him. For a few seconds his mind went blank, his legs shook and his mouth hung slack, until the very last of his load was squeezed out onto the floor.

With a single grunt Trip drove himself in deep, and Aoba could feel his cock trembling far inside him before pulling out.

It was over. With nothing holding him up anymore Aoba’s legs gave out and he collapsed onto the cold floor, his sweating and half-naked body welcoming the cool sensation against his skin.

There he remained as the remaining payment was counted out over him, as casual as buying clothes, food or a new game.

'Aoba-san, as promised. You did well.'

'Thank you, Aoba.'

The money they threw into the air, fluttering all around like a thousand tiny birds.

He couldn’t stay here. Peeling himself from the ground he slowly collected the money, a numbness settling over him. His backside ached. His mouth was sore. But his emotions were numb.

His pants he eased back into place, ignoring the sickening feeling as something oozed out of him. He shuddered in self-loathing, and stumbled towards the door.

'Leaving so soon, Aoba-san?'

'Why don't you stay for dinner?'

'I have a delicious vintage of wine I would like you to sample.'

'And there's going to be some delicious treats for dessert.'

Aoba’s stomach rumbled. He was famished and the taste of come was still lingering in the back of his throat. He turned to look at them, both wearing identical inviting smiles.

A little supper couldn’t hurt.

Could it?


End file.
